Then
by planet p
Summary: AU; Sam comes home from Alaska and brings his new girlfriend, Jane, with him. AKA Sam and Jane meet the family – Take 1. Sam/Jane, William/Cherice, Emily/Lyle


In which I do _not_ Jane bash, wonder of wonders! Shock, horror, golly.

Jane is nice, not sinister. Jane is nice, not sinister. Jane is nice, not sinister. Jane is ni...

* * *

Jane laughed lightly as she leaned towards him, her sparkling blue eyes dancing in the low light supplied by the bedside lamp. She tucked some loose dark chocolate locks behind an ear casually. "You're not nervous, are you?" she asked, smiling genuinely.

Sam frowned and refrained from shaking his head. "No, no way, babe." He'd agonised over the right endearment to call his girlfriend by for weeks, he remembered, and now he suddenly had a cold, plunging feeling – as if he'd chosen wrong and only now realised it. His stomach tumbled uncomfortably but he pushed the discomfort away. No, Jane wasn't his Convergence partner (or her demented twin), but he _loved_ her – he didn't just _think_ he did! Jane and he were for real. He felt it inside.

He couldn't get his head around this now, then. This feeling, like a slow creeping, like something was wrong, something he couldn't _quite_ put his finger on, but something _very_ real. He hated the feeling. If he'd been able to, he'd have punched it out. Pity he couldn't.

He gazed back into Jane's shimmering eyes, reminding himself of all the ways they _weren't_ like Mel's, like Lyle's, reminding himself of all the ways they were just hers, just Jane's, and it felt a little better. Just a little bit. At least he didn't want to bolt anymore.

"I'm good," he told her, concious of the soft, alluring scent of expensive shampoo wafting from her dark hair; some designer brand, he was sure. He laughed. "Speaking of nervous – shouldn't you be the one gettin' all nervous-like? I've already _met_ my family!"

She laughed harder, her eyes glimmering brightly. He had a point there. They were flying out to meet his family in the morning, over in Delaware. His father and young siblings, stepmom, as she'd heard. She was nervous, but excited, too.

She tugged on the low-cut collar of her camisole top. "I am. A li'l you know, baby. I don't know who to be worried about more, your dad or your stepmom, or the sibs." She chewed her bottom lip a little. "I know you weren't real keen on... your dad's love children being there, but what's the verdict? Are they making an appearance after all... or no?" She shrugged a shoulder. "It doesn't freak me out, I want to meet your _whole_ family!"

Sam fought back a scowl. Sure, she really wanted to meet Parker and Lyle! Maybe _she_ did – but he wasn't so pleased with the idea, himself. Maybe they were Raines's brood with Crazy Cat, but they weren't _his_ siblings. Not in his books! He could take Fulton's lot – they were just kids and it wasn't even as though any of the shit was their fault – but Parker and Lyle were too much. He'd had all he could take of those two for this life (and maybe even all his future lives, too). It pissed him off that they were still causing havoc in his life even now, when they weren't anywhere to be seen. It _pissed him off_ that they were ruining this moment with Jane! If they'd been around, he'd have clocked them both and gone back for seconds, given the opportunity.

He knew as well as they did he wasn't Raines's _biological_ son, but he'd bet all his worldly possessions that he considered Raines more of a dad to him than either of them did. Parker had spent the longest time despising Raines, and Lyle was just a scheming freak, as he'd discovered the hard way. He might as well have been a robot, as far as Sam was concerned, and Parker wasn't far off, herself. She had her own freaky Pretender shit goin' on.

If it had been his choice, neither of them would have been invited, but Fulton – _Cherice_, he reminded himself distastefully – had invited them. He'd felt slightly like hurling when Raines had told him over the phone last night.

Since marrying his dad Fulton had formed an uncomfortable tolerance of Lyle, whom she'd always been so disgusted by before, back when she'd been dating Mr. Parker – Raines's so-called "big brother" – no thanks, Sam imagined, to the idiotic comments he'd seemed to delight in making about her being his new _mom_. Even Fulton hadn't been stupid enough not to know what he meant by such comments, seeing as how close he'd been to Mr. Parker's last wife, Brigitte.

At the time, Sam had found it all very comical, but now it just made his skin crawl even thinking about it. Once or twice he'd wanted to bring it up with his dad, actually, ask him if he really trusted his wife. Shit, it wasn't as though she'd made a secret of how much she'd hated him – and then she'd gone and got with him, got married, and promptly produced four little bundles of joy.

She was up to something, Sam just knew it. He'd known it the moment he set eyes on her, and he knew it even now, even miles and miles away. He knew it. And he didn't trust Lyle one bit.

Sure, he'd told him about the thing with Brigitte, even moped about "the one before" for years on end (though he'd never actually come out and _said_ it, that would have been too honest), but he'd never once mentioned all those girls he'd killed. Not to Sam. To every Goddamn one else, but not to Sam.

Sam still couldn't quite believe he'd been so taken in by the creep. It left a bad taste in his mouth whenever he thought about how _in love_ he'd been, how he'd wished they could start a family – maybe adopt some kid – him and some loony serial killer! He'd even looked at the weird little shit Brigitte had birthed as a bit like his own kid, just because it was Lyle's, but now he didn't give two stuffs about that squirt.

In fact, the only one he'd kept up some kind of communication with from the Blue Cove branch was Frankie – Cox. He still didn't know if he believed Frankie's story about his lil sis's death, how he hadn't done nothing to her and how it had all been Chris. Chrissie Baby, as Lyle had been so fond of calling him. Yeah, he still emailed Frankie, but none of the others. None of the other Sweepers, not Cherry or Plum, not Midori (who'd always had a seriously psycho love-on for him, which had only ever freaked him out considering Lyle's history with cutesy Asian girls); not Merchant. Even if he'd wanted to keep in touch with Angelo, he didn't get privileges like that, and besides, he was Parker and Lyle's little pal, wasn't he?

Whenever he thought about his life before meeting Jane, he couldn't see a time when he hadn't been a pawn in one of Parker or Lyle's little games. All of his friends had been their friends first. Even his Annie, his big sis, had been Parker's friend first – and Parker just loved to pretend she _quietly_ lamented her demise. Some days it seemed like he hadn't even been his own person back then.

He was so glad he was over them.

As far as he knew Parker was still single, still a total slut – if he could call his "sister" that – and Lyle... he didn't care about Lyle. Maybe he was with someone, maybe he wasn't. Back when Sam had felt him really starting to drift away from him for the first time, he'd seriously considered bringing up the topic of "her"/"the one before", the one he was clearly still hung up on. Sam had just assumed she'd suddenly decided to take an interest in him again – he'd even been willing to share Lyle with her, if that was what would make his love happy, but now he didn't care. Didn't care if the "one" was his sister, his daughter, his daughter's best friend, Broots's daughter – even damned Fulton – or all four of them! Some dead chick, even. Didn't care.

He just didn't want to _see_ them!

But he'd stomach it if it was what Jane wanted.

If either of them so much as talked to Jane the wrong way, smiled at her the wrong way, he'd damn well clock 'em. Or go outside and shoot their car up. Either way, he didn't care. He'd told his dad to warn them – behave or you and your shit's fair game – and if Raines had forgotten to mention it, by some unfortunate, slim chance, then they'd wanna be sure and get cool with their Inner Sense/Empathy/whatever-the-Hell real soon.

"Dad says they'll be there, but I won't be holdin' my breath, that's for sure," Sam replied. He leaned nearer and draped his arms over her shoulders and kissed her.

She was the only good thing in his life right now. He knew that as surely as he knew he was alive.

.

When they got off the plane, Fulton was there to pick them up, waiting with the two youngest, Alvin and Rebel Agnes, who were four and two respectively. As soon as she saw them, Jane got all dew-eyed. Sam pretended not to notice, seeing as how he was having an uncomfortable deja vu moment. Lyle had always professed to love children, too. And he'd always been "conversing" with them creepily. If one of them so much as looked at him, he'd be there, "conversing", so long as he wasn't "working". Then he pretended he didn't see them. Then he only saw Parker, his sexy big sis, or Sydney, the "cool" one T-Corp "loved" – and he was a complete dunce.

Edna, who was usually known as Eddie by family, was eight and _probably_ at school – at least Sam was hoping so – as was, he presumed, her younger brother, seven-year-old Dexter. If they weren't in school and had been left in the car by their lovely mother, Sam would be having serious words with his dad when they got back to Blue Cove. Fulton might even be sleeping in a motel that night.

He had no tolerance for child abusers, or those who neglected children. True, he worked for the Centre, but he'd never have joined up if he'd known the truth to begin with.

He didn't hug Fulton when they got closer, patted the little ones' heads, but that was all. Said, looking into their little kid faces, "This is my girlfriend, Jane," as if that could mean anything to them at all, at their age.

Rebel scooched up to mommy and Alvin looked down at his new sneakers. Fulton offered Jane her hand, which Jane shook, and welcomed the other woman to Delaware.

Then they walked out to the car, which really got Sam's blood boiling. He couldn't help but feel somewhat pissed off. The 1950s baby blue sedan was _his mom_'s car – _Edie_'s car – and his dad was letting psycho Fulton drive it! He wanted to smack his dad clean over the face, maybe shake him up a bit. The woman couldn't seriously be that good of a lay, and even if she was halfway decent in bed, if his dad was getting that superficial in his old age then he damn well deserved a decent shaking up!

Who the Hell was Fulton, even? Compared to his mom, to Edie? Who was this bitch? Sam couldn't fathom what was going on in his dad's head, and he really didn't want to, either. Edie had been William's Convergence partner, and even though he knew Convergence wasn't everything, he _knew_ Edie had been William's everything.

But ever since Fulton had come along, ever since they'd had their first fight and decided they very likely hated one another, Fulton had had some crazy sway over his dad. Sam felt ill to think that the effect had only seemed to grow since he'd been away. He'd abandoned his dad, in a way. He got that. But he hadn't been able to stick around. He just hadn't been able to do it. And now, when he came back, he got all of this shit thrown in his face, this punch in the gut and all of this sickening guilt.

He sure hoped Fulton was a decent lay, at least.

Jane asked about Blue Cove as they drove. Sam found himself getting stuck on many of the answers, and Fulton ended up coming to his rescue. She didn't even hesitate, like she thought she'd earned the right, like he maybe thought of her as his "mom". He felt sick over the assumption. His biological mom was dead, just like his _real_ mom, Edie, and Fulton, no matter how hard she tried – or _pretended_ to try – would never touch what they'd given him. She'd never be his mom. She'd always be "the infiltrator", the "fake mom", the way Parker looked at Lyle, as the "fake twin". He felt it in his gut that Fulton was no good. He wasn't some Pretender or ISP, but he felt it in his soul.

Once Lyle had told him he was "special", too. This was a long time before the Inner Sense Possessor crap had come up, when Parker had found out they were "twins"; before they'd found out he wasn't really a Pretender or any ISP, but an Empath instead. And then later, an Empath with minor Reaper abilities. Lyle had told him he was what was called a Mediator, had helped him to learn to keep his "specialness" hidden from the bad people out there. Sam had never once thought that maybe he was one of those bad people, never once considered that maybe he was brainwashing him subtly some way so when it came to his Mediator skills, they wouldn't work on him.

Now he never trusted a thing Lyle said, realised nothing he'd ever said had been truth. He'd always loved knowing stuff other people didn't, but Sam didn't even think he really knew shit, he'd just liked pretending he did and lording it over people quietly, silently. Yeah, he'd loved making out he was _so_ tortured.

Sam had used to think it adorable, but now it turned his stomach. It had taken 'til after they'd broken up for Lyle to start being truthful with him, about even the smallest thing, and Sam still didn't believe he'd ever get the honest truth out of the guy – maybe he was still deluding himself, believing he'd ever told him anything that wasn't a lie. It was highly likely. Nowadays, he didn't even care enough to listen to what either of the Parker twins said.

No, he hadn't told Jane he was a Mediator, and Jane hadn't mentioned sensing it to him, but he meant to tell her someday. He thought maybe this weekend. He was going to ask her to marry him, if nobody ruined it for him first. Maybe the Blocking techniques Lyle had taught him hadn't been entirely useless, but they sure hadn't been worth all the Hell that had come along with them. Maybe Sam sometimes got the sense that the Mediator in him was "whispering" to him, but he'd had that in him all along – long before Lyle had come along.

Even though Raines hadn't told him about it outright, in a way he'd always known it, had known he was different from the moment T-Corp had come for his parents, when they'd killed his mom in front of him.

The Mediator in him told him Jane was good. A Tower lackey or not, she was still a Healer, and Healers were basically good. His Jane was good.

Jane would not hurt him if she could help it. She loved him as much as he loved her.

He'd given up believing in Lyle's paranoia, that you never really knew who you could trust. It was never anything more than part of his craziness, anyway, his double standards – I love them, really, and if they one day end up killing me, shit happens, and if I end up the one doing them in, shit happens all kinds of ways, honest.

Jane wasn't so full of double standards he choked and had to think twice whenever he called her name. She was just Jane, there was no secret hidden in her past that might make her want to be known by some other name tomorrow just because it was the mood she was in, or it made her feel sick to hear her own name.

She was Jane, she was genuinely interested to hear about the town her boyfriend grew up in as a young man, and her laughter made his heart feel lighter.

He didn't care if the young ones stared intently at one another on the back seat whenever she spoke. So what if they were budding little Healers themselves, they didn't know squat about his Jane. They had no right to judge her, and neither did Fulton.

Since he'd met Jane he'd stopped seeing Edie, as he'd used to do in his younger years, ever since she'd been murdered. Even with Lyle about, "the great Empath", he'd still sometimes woken to feel her smoothing a hand across his forehead, silently reassuring him he was alright with a warm, soft light in her earthy brown eyes. He'd still seen her at her grave when he'd gone to visit her, when he'd gone to talk with his mom.

He wondered if she'd be there waiting for him if he went there now. He wondered if he wanted her to be there, or not.

He had Jane now.

He said he was done with lies now. With stupid complications that really didn't apply.

He had a feeling he wouldn't be going by to visit Edie or the cemetery this time.

.

He'd heard from Frankie that Broots had moved out of town with Silvie and their young son, Jethro. He didn't really care less how Lyle felt about his "feral, escaped" daughter running off with an older guy who wasn't even a Tower-level tech, like he was, and a non-Possessor to boot, but he had a good idea that Debbie, who'd stayed behind to be with her fiance, was probably feeling massively out of her comfort zone. Missing her daddy and her bestie. She'd probably be sticking around for the long haul, though, seeing as how Frankie was Deputy Director of Med Space – as if he'd ever give up the title, or the pay packet. He'd have to be nuts, frankly. Then again, given that he was a Healer himself – according to Lyle, and Raines, supposably, who'd predictably rushed to support his little maniac – he could well be moving away, out of the "hot zone", one of these days.

Sam didn't care. He didn't live in Blue Cove anymore – he was a Tower Sweeper now; he lived in Alaska now.

One day he'd find the people who'd killed his mom and dad, Gina and Thomas, and he'd pay them back. He'd get vengeance. Maybe ask them a couple of questions, first. He didn't know a whole lot about his history; he could stand to learn a little, he thought. His parents names had been Gina and Thomas O'Halleren (or some variation thereof) and his name had been Terri (with an 'i'). The people who'd killed his parents had hailed from the T-Corp auxiliary, the A.R. Loring Institute. When they'd discovered they'd had him in their clutches and let him go they'd made a beeline for the hospital where he'd been admitted, Grace Miller, where they'd proceeded to wreak havoc and unashamedly end lives. They'd used some sort of biological agent to murder almost all of the people inhabiting the first floor of the hospital, then they'd come upstairs looking for Terri. They'd have had him too, if Edie hadn't taken him under her wing. She'd gotten herself shot for him, nearly died for him, she'd _killed_ other human beings to protect him – and he'd been so thankful when she'd lived, when she'd decided to take him in and be his mom. That was the first time he'd met her, met his sister, Annie, at that hospital, with death hanging all around, and they'd come through – together.

The old hospital had burned to the ground, and Terri and all the staff, all the patients, along with it. It had been carnage in untold proportions. At the end of it all, Terri had become Samuel Erin Raines. It would take years before he learned that Samuel Erin Raines wasn't just a made-up name, Sam had almost been a baby, had almost been his brother.

Yes, there were dead bodies and poor dead babies galore in his past, and then some, but what he and Jane had didn't concern the past, it was all about the future – their future, _together_.

He was going to marry Jane, they were going to have cute little babies – they were gonna be a family some day soon. And he'd be happy. Finally happy.

He'd been waiting this long for his "happily ever after" and he thought he deserved it.

.

The car pulled up in the old driveway and the past hit Sam with all the subtlety of a ton of bricks, smacked him right in the chest. It was suddenly hard to breathe, hard to reach for the door handle and get the door open to get some fresh air. The sound of the dead lawn crunching softly under his shoes was painful, and brought back memories of happy summers spent with Annie, his older sister, and those stolen moments with her cute, "old friend", Mel, who was fifteen and he really shouldn't have been hanging with besides. Despite that they'd grown up in the same town most of their lives, and that they'd only met once, he'd sure remembered Mel when they'd met again later in life, both intending on making good in law.

They'd had so much in common back them: the horrible losses (both their mothers, his sister, her friend), their interest in the legal system and justice, the parent they didn't see enough (their fathers). She'd used to make him smile so much, he remembered, his Mel, but she'd only ever meant to break his heart. He'd meant to marry her, too. And then she'd upped and jetted out of his life, not to be seen or heard of for years. Sometimes he'd actually feared she'd died, had felt it inside. And then he'd met someone else who made him smile – someone who happened to be another guy, but so what, if they made each other happy. But it was all a lie, and even if they said they weren't in it together, swore black and blue, no matter how many times Parker said Lyle wasn't her "real twin", as though it was such a great conspiracy, Lyle still had a part of her real brother stuck in his head, and that was enough, it seemed, to give Lyle the right to mess him around as much as Parker – his honest-to-goodness Convergence partner – had.

Realising that the person he loved was never going to change, was never even going to make an effort, had been bad enough, but when Parker had confessed that they'd almost had a baby together – if she'd never had the "accident" – that had been the last straw. He'd had to leave town then – before he lost his last shred of sanity and murdered them both.

He still thought about that baby sometimes, about how reckless the both of them were, always putting themselves in danger time and again without a thought for anyone else's feelings. In his mind Parker had killed their baby; he didn't care for all that talk that she'd been forced into it, that her school had been a T-Corp training facility and evil, had been trying to mould her into the perfect weapon.

She was no idiot and if she, with all of her father's money and influence, had walked into a trap, then maybe it was sad, but maybe she'd been foolish, maybe she'd been shallow, maybe she'd asked for it. Maybe she'd even done it to piss Daddy off, to get back at him for ignoring her and sending her away. It was an awful thought, but he was over believing every lie she told, every sob story she'd never cried on his shoulder, that simmered darkly in the back of her eyes, deep down in her soul.

It _was_ sad, but she'd been born a manipulator. Her mother had been one, for whatever reasons, and she'd trained her daughter in the art. He couldn't save her from herself, and he'd long ago given up. Even Jarod – her _brethren_ – hadn't been able to save her.

Through her stupidity or her childish craving to be loved and admired, to prove herself, she'd killed their baby, but he no longer agonised over it. He'd set himself free from her hold and moved on.

She would no longer make his heart beat faster, would no longer make his knees weak. He was with Jane now. Even if he saw her, she was just his dad's "love child" with some dead lady.

The past was the past; all of those smiling, sunny days – gone.

He closed the car door himself and walked around to join Jane, slowly making his way to the front door with her. He told her about how he'd first learnt to fix cars on his mom's old car; how her father had been a mechanic in the military, originally from Norway, though he'd married an Icelandic girl. His mom, Edna, had been born in Iceland, but she hadn't lived there long. It was she who'd taught him to fix cars. He was no whiz, but he got by.

"Her grandfather," Fulton corrected, as she let them all into the house. "Her grandfather was the mechanic; she never knew her father. Her grandfather raised her. Her mother ran away to pursue her dreams of becoming a famous actress in America; hitched a ride on a passing ship, quite possibly. She returned home unsuccessful, alone and pregnant. She only stayed long enough to have the baby and then she was gone again. Your mother never met her own mother, apart from when she was born." She directed her gaze to her small son and smiled at him. "Actually, Alvin gets his middle name from his great-grandfather."

Sam couldn't help but snort. Leaning close to Fulton, he whispered darkly, "He wasn't _Alvin_'s great-grandfather, _Fulton_!"

Much to his distaste, Fulton put her arms around him and hugged him. "We're just happy to see our Sammy looking so well!" she declared.

Sam didn't hug her back, but stayed completely still, stiff in her arms. She didn't get to call him 'Sammy'; only his dad called him that. Very occasionally Lyle had called him 'Sammy', when he – not Sam – felt really down or really ill, but if he called Sam that now he'd be sorry for sure.

Fulton released him and was about ready to say something when she heard a knock on the door and headed back that way. The kids were already looking that way, holding hands. They probably knew who was on the other side.

Sam glanced at Alvin, asking quietly, so Jane wouldn't hear, "Who is it, Alvin?"

Alvin didn't look at him when he said, "Eddie, Dexter, big brother."

Sam turned to Jane quickly. "The kitchen's just this way," he told her. "Would you like something to drink? I could use a glass of water myself."

She smiled. "Thank you, Sam."

Someone screamed "SAMMY!" at the top of their lungs and heavy footsteps came pelting their way, along the hall. Eddie dodged the younger ones easily and launched herself at Sam, throwing her arms around him and hanging onto him as if her life depended on it. "Sammy's home!" she whispered, eyes bright and happy.

Suddenly, silently, the rest of the kids were there, crowding round, all hugging him. Sam felt like a caged, cornered animal. He wanted to holler for Fulton to get her brats off him, but he refrained.

"Nice to see you, Sam," Lyle said. "Jane." He'd never met her before but he spoke her name as if they'd known each other forever.

Sam had the urge to punch him. Very strong urge.

The kids let go of Sam; even Eddie, who'd stepped back and was now staring at him with such an intense, loving expression he felt distinctly like he was a puppy in the window of a pet store. He wanted to tell her, "Scram, urchin!" Well, 'urchin' would be the nice version of what he wanted to call her.

"Mel won't be long," Lyle said to them all. Then, to the children, with a smile, "She's bringing cake."

Alvin and Rebel Agnes smiled happily, but Eddie wasn't that easy to fool. "In that case, I hope it's home-made," she replied.

Fulton shook her head. "Just what the kids need, Lyle. More sugar!"

He nodded in Eddie's direction, rushing to defend his sister. "It's home-made."

The front door opened and Parker stomped in. She glared at Lyle. "If anyone dies, you can just take your accusing eyes off me. He made it. I _don't_ bake." She frowned. "We were all talking about cake, weren't we?"

Lyle pointed to Sam and Jane.

Parker screamed, making both Fulton and Lyle jump. Perhaps she'd been expecting Jane to look different – less like her, in her mind – or perhaps she was trying for some girlish antic, excitement, et cetera. Whatever her intentions, she calmed down almost instantly. "You've been gone that long, I almost didn't recognise you, Sam," she said. "I apologise if you've just gone deaf – I wasn't sure if you were a burglar or not."

Lyle laughed and put a hand over his mouth. Clearly, not the opportune moment to laugh.

Parker glared at him some more, meaningfully.

Nothing had changed, then, Sam decided. They were still far too involved with one another than was healthy, always thinking the other was plotting something sinister against the other, and they were both pretending he didn't exist and they weren't bothered in the least.

Lyle picked up Rebel Agnes and walked down the hall, to the kitchen. The kids followed him whilst Parker offloaded the cake on Fulton and followed suit, saying quickly, in a sort-of hiss, "I'm serious – _he_ made it. _God, I hate the Tower!_ You can blame Lyle for that, too. Stupid. I wouldn't have shrieked if I'd had time to mentally prepare myself. It's so embarrassing. Idiot might have told me they were here already."

She didn't even bother to stop muttering when she caught up to Sam and Jane, and walked past them, as if she just didn't care if she offended Jane, then, turning to lean against the kitchen counter by the sink, she said loudly, "So, Sam and Jane, how's things? How was the trip?" She shook her head and shot Lyle a glare when he busied himself pouring the kids water at the sink. "Tell us all about it." She glared at Lyle some more and smacked him in the arm. "I don't want water. Wine would be preferable. Just..." she pointed to the draining board, "use that."

"It's plastic," he replied dirtily.

She poked her tongue out at him. "Oh my God, it's _plastic_! Yeah, it is! Stop messing around and just give the kid her... thing!"

"Plastic is harmful for young children."

"Shut it and just do it already!"

He grabbed Rebel Agnes and held her close. "You can't make me, woman!"

Fulton stalked over and snatched her kid off Lyle. "Cut it out!" she snapped. "You're making a fool of yourself. Offer them something to drink, will you? Make yourself useful – it won't kill you! Coffee, tea, juice!"

She grabbed the plastic sipping cup off the draining board and shushed the other kids out of the kitchen with a hand gesture.

"Let's go watch TV," Eddie said in a highly contrived voice, as if she thought very highly of afternoon TV, indeed, and she, Dexter and Alvin all filed out of the room.

Parker smacked Lyle in the arm. He was staring after them as though he wanted to go with them, but Fulton had told him to _do_ something.

He shook his head and turned to Sam and Jane. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, fruit juice, water?"

"Al-co-hol!" Parker mouthed, beside him, and grinned.

"Plastic is bad for young children," Lyle told Fulton quietly.

Parker glared at him and punched him in the arm. "Coffee, right, Sam?"

"Fine," Sam replied stiffly. "Coffee's fine," he added, a moment later, in a slightly less stiff tone.

"I'll have a coffee, also," Jane said. "Thank you."

"Cherice."

"Leave her alone, Lyle!" Parker hissed. "You can't avoid plastic nowadays, so stop being an idiot! Food is packaged _in plastic_! Pipes are _plastic_! Plastic has taken over – deal with it." She pointed. "Machine, go! Make it work, Clever Boy! Break it and I'll kick your ass! I got that for Daddy and Stepmommy for Christmas!"

"Plastic lover," he muttered darkly and walked off, over to the coffee machine.

She smiled after him, for a moment, then she frowned. "Do you mean that in a dirty way? Oh God, I'm gonna hurt you, boy!"

Fulton sighed heavily and walked over to Sam and Jane, setting Rebel Agnes on her feet with sipper in hand. "I apologise for Lyle and Mel."

"Mel and Lyle!" Parker corrected loudly, and snickered. "Oh man, you broke it!"

Fulton waved a hand. "Moving on. What is it you do for the Tower, Jane, if you don't mind my asking?"

Sam shot her a funny look. As if she didn't know – just about everyone knew, thanks to Lyle, the idiot!

"I'm a doctor," Jane said.

"Mmm."

"Oh, come on! What did I do?"

Parker laughed loudly. "It's screwed!"

Fulton spun around and glared at Lyle. "Go and watch TV with the kids. Make sure they're not watching anything they shouldn't be – and don't _you_ let them watch anything they shouldn't, either!"

"What? Why?"

"No questions! Go!"

He glanced at Parker and smiled. "Have fun!" he whispered happily and shot the coffee machine a wink.

Parker glared after him. "You suck at baking, loser! I'll bet we'll all die when we eat your crappy cake!"

Fulton stared at her seriously.

Parker dropped the glare, along with her shoulders. "He pisses me off. He's such an idiot. I want Broots back. Why did he have to go?" She adjusted her expression to one of the Ice Queen. "It's not really broken, Lyle's just a gullible fool. It's fun to toy with his mind. I'll be watching TV with the kids." She walked out after her brother.

Fulton sighed heavily, and picked up her daughter. "Well, this has been fun," she said.

Jane took a seat out from the table and sat down, as if to say 'I don't care; I'm not bothered by their immature antics'.

The sound of the chair legs scraping on the floor grated on Sam's nerves. He just knew they'd pull some stupid shit like this. "I'll be back," he told Jane, and headed out of the room.

He found the lot of them in the lounge, gathered around the piano, clearly not watching television. The TV wasn't even switched on. Lyle was playing some modern pop number, "Titanium", and Parker was oddly singing along, holding hands with Alvin and Dexter.

Sam remembered that Parker had learnt to play the piano as a little kid; she'd probably even played on this old piano. She was actually smiling; it slightly freaked him out. Holding the kids' hands, she looked like she was channelling some hippie vibe. He'd never heard her sing before, he hadn't even been aware she followed popular music. How she knew the lyrics was a mystery, but maybe she'd heard the song over the radio sometime and was just putting her Pretender abilities to good use. She didn't have a bad voice, and that was even freakier.

Sam wasn't even sure the song could be played on the piano, but apparently it could. When the song ended, Eddie nodded. "Taylor Swift – _'Love Story'_!"

Parker frowned, glancing at Lyle. "Do we know that song, Eugene?"

"We know that song, Rapunzel," he replied, with a smile, and began to play. "Sure do. 'We were both young when I first saw you. I close my eyes and the flashback starts...' "

Parker rolled her eyes and joined in singing. Even Eddie joined in, the expression on her face looking all big-girl-with-somethin'-to-say.

Sam felt a smile coming on and backed off. He walked back to the kitchen. He was over the both of them. Over. Period. Maybe they weren't _always_ fighting, maybe they had their moments of cuteness, but that didn't mean a thing.

Jane smiled at him when he walked back into the kitchen.

.

Parker leant back against the back wall of the house, gazing out at the darkened backyard. "Did you know Sam was coming to visit?" she asked Lyle, half wishing she had a cigarette, but she'd given up.

"No. Liam didn't mention it, and you know he's quite adept at Blocking me."

ABBA was playing loudly from inside the house.

"Sorry about earlier. I sort of just lost it. Tower people just... mess with my mind. I don't know why I'm apologising, but whatever!" She shrugged heavily. She really didn't know why she was apologising; she hadn't lied.

"It's cool. For what it's worth, I probably have more to apologise for than you do. I'm the Empath here; if I couldn't calm the situation down then I wasn't really trying, was I?"

"No, you did. I felt that. You must have done something. I felt something. It was nice."

He smiled faintly, thinking on something else, some other time, perhaps.

"So, pretty awesome! Jarod told me Aretha was born today. Would have been nice to be there..."

"Nah, hospitals and I don't mix..."

Parker turned to glance at him with a strange frown. She wasn't sure she believed him.

He smiled and turned to lean his head against the wall. "I wish I was someone else."

"Why?" she asked, sort of blankly.

"I _do_ wish I could have been there. For her, to hold her hand, to see our child. I wish I could ask her to be my wife and look after her, make her happy. But I'm not... I'm me... That's the problem, I'm me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." She sighed and rested her head against his arm. "We could... run away and see them! I've never voluntarily visited anyone in hospital before – I think it would make a nice change."

He looked at her. "Do you think?"

She stepped back, grinning. "Nah! But let's do it anyway!" She laughed. "I promise I won't try to bring Jarod back in if you don't. Truce?"

He frowned, thinking things through. "Okay, Melody. We'll have a truce." He offered her his hand, so they could shake on it.

"Other hand."

He gave her his right hand and they shook hands.

"Let's lend Edie's car," she suggested. "It's loads more romantic. Don't you think so, Empath?" She grinned. "We can get chocolates, crash hospital non-visiting hours."

"You're so funny," he said, trying not to giggle.

She laughed and put a finger to her lips. "Shhh! If we're sneaky, I bet they won't even notice we're gone until we're miles outta town." She smiled and gestured a hand ahead of her. "Lead the way!"

They walked around the side of the house in the dark, over to Edie's car. It wasn't hard to break in seeing as Cherice had forgotten to lock the front door.

.

"I have a feeling Mel's gone out for a drink and taken her brother with her," William told Sam and Jane, offering Cherice his glass of wine. The bottle was empty and they didn't have another about. She took the glass wordlessly and took a sip.

"They're a funny pair, them two," she said. "Normal siblings, then. This is nice wine, William. Mmm. Where'd you buy it?"

He leant closer and whispered, "Lyle brought it. Two, three weeks ago. For Parker, I think."

"It's really nice." She smiled. "Too nice. I'm starting to feel... Wow!" She offered him her hand. "Take me to bed, husband."

Across the table, Sam tried not to gag. He couldn't be hearing stuff like that, and whilst they were about it, Fulton could just wipe that look off her face, too. It was going to scar him for life. He was just glad the kids had been put to bed; glad Parker and Lyle weren't around to start some cat fight, or burst into giggles. Empaths had funny turns.

Cherice glanced at Sam with soft brown eyes. "Goodnight, Sammy. Goodnight, Jane."

"Goodnight," Jane replied, smiling back at her.

William and Cherice left the room, holding hands, William sort of leading the way.

"I think your stepmom's tipsy," Jane said, with a cute smile.

Sam ran his hands over his face. "I really don't want to think about it."

She laughed. "I feel stood up. Your brother and sister just left."

"Let's just hope not together," Sam muttered darkly.

"What?" She laughed. "Do you...?" The laughter died in her voice, dropped suddenly out of her eyes. "Do you mean that in an awful way?" she asked, deadly serious.

Sam tossed his head jerkily. "What do you think, Jane? It pains me to break it to you, but they're really fucked up. Terribly fucked up, in fact. It would not surprise me if they were involved 'in an awful way'."

Jane put a hand over her mouth, the colour draining from her face. "That's awful!" she half-gasped.

"Jane?"

She peered at him, over the hand clapped to her mouth. She sniffed. Removed her hand a little, mumbled, "Yes?"

"As incredibly creepy as that last comment was, if I asked you to marry me, would you at least think about it... for longer than five seconds?"

Jane stared at him silently, her hand still covering her mouth. She lowered her hand forcibly, stiffly, and sat up straighter, wide-eyed. She nodded without saying a word, then quietly began mumbling, "Seven, eight, nine... Ten... Yes, Sam! I would think about it for longer than five seconds, if you asked me. I just did." She smiled, hiccuping slightly. "Are you going to ask me?"

Sam frowned momentarily, then shook his head. "What? You want...? Y-yes! Yes, I'll- Jane!" He grabbed up her hands suddenly, holding them tightly, then less tightly, so as not to squash them painfully. "Jane, will you marry me?"

She sniffed, and hiccuped again. "I don't know why I'm hiccuping but now I want to cry," she said, her eyes all misty. She hiccuped again, and smiled. "Oh Hell yes, I'll marry you! I will definitely marry you, Sammy! I don't care if your whole family _is_ mad as heck, I'll still marry you! You have such adorable eyes. They just steal my heart away." She laughed and leaned toward him suddenly, bumping her head against his accidentally and laughing some more. Then she placed a hand on his face and kissed him softly.

He didn't care if his head hurt, then.


End file.
